Ever wonder why writers always seem a little distracted? Disconnected? Like they are on another planet? With a strange vocabulary and an odd twist on the mundane? It's because we're writers. Through a Writer's Eyes will help you see what we see and how we see and why we say what we do. Feel free to join the conversation. Let me know how you see what I see. Thanks for stopping by! Enjoy the journey!

Sunday, May 19, 2013

Darkness and Light

“When the darkness closes in, still I will say, Blessed be
the name of the Lord.”

Words from a nice song.A song about worshiping God in good days and bad.But what about when the bad days are filled
with hurt that you can’t explain?

My role in this season is something like a senior
advisor.I’m the Bapka – the mom of the
dad, the longest married dad of the second generation of the clan.He’s the dad of the clan who is secondly
asked for advice – only in line behind the patriarch.

I’m an extra and, honestly, have asked God more than once
what He has me here for.This impossibly
intertwined little town doesn’t need me.They have all of each other.There are good things about being here so I rather selfishly enjoy
pieces of this season.But is it really
necessary? My son tells me he still needs me - partly to be nice, I think - partly because sometimes it's very true.

Let me try to explain this better.

I live on the fringes of a family which is its own social
network.This town is largely populated
by one family.If you follow the family
tree down, you will find one particular set of parents who have six kids – five
grown and married with children.Those grandchildren
total 11, with two more on the way. That
whole conglomeration of personalities continually flows in and out of each
other’s days.They work together, play
together, hang out together, sharing sorrow and joy alike.

My son is married to one of the daughters of that
family.They are the longest married
with the most kids.Due to his position
and his gentle wisdom, my son is rather respected by his peers.

I’m not everyday involved with this whole family, it’s true. But we go to church together and they are a
part of my extended social circle.All
the grandchildren call me Bapka and run to me with hugs and I call them all my
Angelbabies and give them mints. On the fringes is a nice place to be.

Except when it’s not.Like this week.

From my distant space I watch their lives, pray for them,
love them, encourage them as much as I can.I see a lot of things from my distant perch.Some things that make my heart smile, some
that make me worry and wonder if there isn’t a way I can steer change.They don’t even know how often I carry their
names to the Lord.That’s ok.God knows.

Not quite two years ago, one of those extensions was given
an amazing, miraculous gift.I watched the story of the twins unfold from
their impossibly early birth, through the preemie hospital days and then as
they excelled past every benchmark to show they were thriving beyond
expectations.The mother of the twins is
my daughter-in-law’s sister.The dad is
one of my son’s closest friends. The twins and their older sister call me
Bapka.

They are a part of the fabric of my life.

This week one of those twins left us.Her little life took a sad turn and suddenly
we went from saying things like, “those twins are so cute together and so
healthy!What a miracle!” to awkward
phrases like, “I don’t have the words to say how sorry I am.”

They said it was a virus.There was nothing anyone could have done.It acted so quickly and presented so oddly.

And now I muddle through trying to explain the unexplainable
to my grandchildren, my son, his wife.I
hear my voice reaching for comforting words.I have prayed this week until my voice was hoarse and no tears
remained.

Through this, my purpose is clearly, sharply defined.The work of the sorrow should be done without
little ears listening.I keep my grandbabies
removed from the epicenter while my son and his wife work through this family grief.

And so I make lunch, draw baths and hold these Angelbabies of mine
while they cry.

I try to answer their
questions, but find they have more answers than I do.

Arthur plainly states, “Ava went to heaven with Skippy the
cat and Grandma Loraine and Hunter.”

No questioning God’s motive.No doubts about the hereafter.

Again, I see my life here is full of purely selfish
benefits.

“He gives and takes away.My heart will choose to say.Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

1 comment:

Well spoken. Angelbabies need their Bapkas especially in times of grief. They watch & learn how to love, comfort, have compassion & to pray and feel safe like when Bapka's heart chooses to praise & bless the Lord at all times. although you feel you are on the fringes you are on the frontlines!!

About Me

I am a writer. It's intrinsic to my existence. I write because I can't not write. I love Jesus. I would say I'm sorry if that offends you, but I'm not. I am a follower of Christ trying to live like Him Who has saved me. I won't apologize for that either. I love to laugh and sing and read and watch people smile. I have two amazing sons, one amazing daughter-in-love and four incredible grandchildren. I am a very rich woman.